


Like You Mean It

by biscuitysguise



Series: Dani's Haikyuu Kinkmas 2020 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Dani's HQ Kinkmas 2020: day 5 - public/semi-public sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Oh also, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Akaashi Keiji, Safe Sane and Consensual, Semi-Public Sex, Strength Kink, THE INHERENT EROTICISM OF BOKUTO KOUTAROU'S THICK ASS AND THICK ASS MUSCLES, The inherent eroticism of your given name falling from your lover's lips, if u squint, it's 2:30 am and i'm feeling poetic so shush, lube sachets, lubricated condoms, not necessarily in that order, oh yeah, poor atsumu, right around 3.6k of bkak fucking in a bathroom, sorta - Freeform, that's right u SHOULD use both if ur tryna do anal, well i mean Mostly like the sex is sane but the location is Not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuitysguise/pseuds/biscuitysguise
Summary: At one point, Keiji had probably thought this might be a bad idea.That was a long time ago, now. That was a different Keiji. Things change; opinions change. The Keiji of right now is appreciating every goddamn second of what he’s getting.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Dani's Haikyuu Kinkmas 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037205
Comments: 11
Kudos: 208





	Like You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh... happy birthday akaashi??? lmao talk abt a coincidence hsfjksfd
> 
> pls enjoy 3.6k of bkak smut

At one point, Keiji had probably thought this might be a bad idea. 

That was a long time ago, now. That was a different Keiji. Things change; opinions change. The Keiji of right now is appreciating every goddamn second of what he’s getting. 

And what he’s getting comes in the form of his lover pressing him up against the sink of a bathroom at the bar they’ve gone to for a celebration with the MSBY Black Jackals. The team won the game, the captain offered drinks around, and at Koutarou’s insistence, Keiji was invited along. It hadn’t really taken  _ much  _ insisting; some of the team has known Keiji since high school, and the rest learned about him pretty much as soon as Koutarou joined the team. Meian was more than happy to invite Keiji along to this little outing tonight. 

He appreciated it at first, though now he’s finding himself feeling as though he needs to buy Meian a drink or two as well. 

Koutarou is already a pretty handsy person when he’s sober. He likes to have himself pressed against Keiji in some way or another. Someone had joked once they started dating and the skinship between them only increased that Keiji was Koutarou’s “weakness number one” and to an extent, Keiji couldn’t help but agree; though, since the weaknesses were discovered and compiled in chronological order, Keiji had to settle for being weakness number thirty-eight. 

When he’s drunk, however. Koutarou is even more of an intense person when he’s entering the tipsy stage of drunk. Part of the intensity comes from the way he’ll drape himself over Keiji, be it an arm or his legs or his torso. Keiji doesn’t normally mind, he’ll just lean back into Koutarou’s touch with a small smile on his lips. 

The other part of the intensity comes with the volume. Koutarou is publicly a loud person to begin with, really. When he’s on the verge of tipsy and heading into drunk, he gets either really quiet, or  _ really _ loud. The quiet is less frequent, though very concerning. It reminds Keiji of high school, whenever Koutarou would enter his emo mode. The throwback isn’t  _ necessarily  _ welcome, and it’s never a pleasant trip when Keiji is also tipsy bordering drunk. No, Keiji would much rather have his husband be louder than eerily quiet. 

Maybe that will change, given their current position. Koutarou has Keiji backed against a porcelain sink, making him bend backwards as they kiss ferociously. He’s well aware that he already has rapidly reddenning marks on his neck, and he might be ashamed when they inevitably face the rest of the team later, but right now Keiji is deciding to live in the moment. One hand braces himself above the sink, while the other digs into Koutarou’s back. 

“So pretty, Keiji,” Koutarou breathes when he pulls back, his eyes flicking open to take Keiji in. 

A hand threads into his hair and tugs lightly, making him gasp, and he briefly tries to recall how they ended up in this position to begin with. 

(He’s pretty sure something about attractiveness had come up, and of course each person was voting for themselves - except for Koutarou (who was already tipsy at that point), who said that there couldn’t  _ possibly _ be anyone more attractive than Keiji, because nobody like that could  _ possibly _ exist. 

The rest of the team had varying reactions, although they all came back to ask Keiji what he thought of that. 

“Of course there isn’t anyone who even compares to Bokuto-san,” Keiji had said with a smile, reaching over to squeeze at his husband’s thigh. Koutarou had giggled and pulled him into a kiss, and Keiji (also already tipsy) had complied. “Nobody compares to you, Koutarou,” he whispered then, when only Koutarou could hear. “Nobody possibly could.” 

“Keiji,” Koutarou had gasped at the usage of his given name, eyes opening wide and his pupils visibly dilating. 

_ “Koutarou.” _

It wasn’t long before they had ended up in the bathroom, if he’s recalling correctly.)

“God, you’re so perfect. And you’re all mine, yeah?” 

Keiji hums an affirmation, his eyes sliding shut at Koutarou’s intense gaze raking over his body. “Of course, Koutarou. There’s nobody else I want besides you.” 

_ “Christ,”  _ Koutarou swears, and his grip tightens around Keiji’s waist to pull him forwards against him, and Keiji in turn wraps his arms around Koutarou to further lessen the space between them. 

Oh, he’s hard. 

Funny, Keiji can feel himself starting to fill out as well. 

(Something something, alcohol, something something.)

“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” Koutarou hisses, subtly grinding his hips forward against Keiji’s. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one.” Keiji gasps when Koutarou’s strong arms wrap around him, and he ruts repeatedly against the thigh pressed against his cock. 

The hand on Keiji’s lower back starts to snake downwards, finding the waistband of his pants and slipping beneath. Koutarou’s broad hand fully grabs his ass, making him squeak (something he will undoubtedly deny later if asked, but Koutarou probably wasn’t paying close enough attention to have noticed it) and grab at his hand. 

“Ko-Koutarou,” he pants, “if we’re gonna do this I think we need a condom.” 

Realisation dawns across Koutarou’s face, and Keiji could swear that his smile raises the temperature of the room by a couple degrees. “Oh! Right! I have one in my wallet, just give me a second….” He pats at his pockets and a frown marrs his brow. He pats at them again and frowns even deeper, looking rather crestfallen. “Keiji,” he whines. “Keiji, my wallet is still on the table, and I need to go grab it.”

“Mmkay,” Keiji hums, his thumb smoothing out the frown creasing his husband’s brow. “I’ll wait right here for you.” 

“But I don’t wanna leave you,” Koutarou replies, and Keiji’s heart melts. “What if someone comes in here while I’m gone? What do I do then?” 

“I’ll still be right here,” Keiji chuckles. “I promise, okay?” 

Koutarou’s lip nearly sticks out in a pout. “Okay,” he mutters, defeated. He gives Keiji’s waist one last squeeze before he heads to the door and back into the bar. 

The emptiness of the bathroom gives Keiji time to catch his breath. He blinks a couple of times, and then decides to turn and splash a bit of water on his face. He’s very warm, probably a side effect of the alcohol and being in such close proximity to his husband in a public space. It could also have something to do with the casual frotting, he thinks belatedly, and then shakes his head to dislodge the thought. 

Now that his mind isn’t overpowered by the warmth coursing through his body, Keiji realises just how hard he actually is. He’s actually a little uncomfortable, figuring that it’s probably because he’s started leaking in his underwear. It’ll be a pain later, but right now, he thinks to himself with a happy little hum, it makes things a lot better. He unbuttons his pants and undoes the zipper, relishing the way the sound echoing around the tiled walls makes him shiver. He doesn’t fully take himself out, opting instead to tease himself through his underwear so Koutarou gets to undress him properly.

A loud shout of  _ “BOKKUN!” _ yanks him from his concentration on palming his cock. He chuckles lowly and then jumps slightly when the door of the bathroom opens harshly. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone,” Koutarou murmurs, breathless. He’s got his wallet in one hand, his other already starting to unbutton his pants. “Does that feel good, baby?” he asks as he sets his wallet on the counter next to him and presses his hand against Keiji’s, making him gasp at the sudden addition of pressure. 

“Fuck, Koutarou,  _ fuck, _ yes that feels--!” 

“It’s good?”

_ “Yes,”  _ Keiji breathes, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. 

Koutarou attaches his lips to his neck, sucking and biting more marks into the already blemished skin. His hands work at Keiji’s pants, shoving them down over his hips and grabbing at his boxer-briefs. The elastic slips through his fingers the first time; Keiji gasps and then has to bite back a moan as it snaps back against his skin.

“Shit, fuck, you sound so good, Keiji,” Koutarou hisses. His fingertips dig into Keiji’s thighs to tease him before he pulls away to fumble with his wallet. He slides a foil package (with LUBRICATED written on it in big bold letters) and a small packet of lube from it with shaking hands. “Are you ready to get this show on the road?” 

“As long as it’s a show with very little audience, absolutely.” Keiji tugs at the hem of Koutarou’s shirt, getting it off of him before he can even tear open the condom packaging. It’s not meant to be a pullover, but Keiji can’t really be bothered with semantics right now. “You look good like this, Koutarou.” 

It’s not a lie. While Keiji  _ often _ thinks that his husband looks good, he cannot deny that he looks especially enticing right now. His muscles, while usually already visible, are still a little more evident than usual because of the game hardly two hours prior. His pecs are  _ huge, _ and Keiji can’t help the hand that reaches up to squeeze at one. He kneads at it with long fingers, and shivers as he watches Koutarou sigh in pleasure. Yes, he thinks as he pulls at his nipple and hears his husband grunt lowly, this is weakness number sixty-seven; having his pecs played with. (At what point did the list become a little less about volleyball and a little more about how Keiji can get Koutarou to fall apart?)

“So good to me, Keiji,” Koutarou muses, his eyes flickering back open. His pupils cover much of his iris now, giving evidence to his arousal (as if the hardened dick in his pants wasn’t evidence enough). 

Speaking of, Koutarou shoves his pants down his thighs - god, they are so  _ thick _ \- and reveals to Keiji that he went commando rather than put on a pair of underwear after the game. 

(Keiji’s heart jumps into his throat until he swallows it back down. The whole time they were at the bar… but he got hard so  _ long _ ago…. Koutarou’s ability to power through really isn’t something to be understated, he thinks, if he was hard for twenty minutes before they even went to the bathroom.)

Koutarou’s cock stands proud and leaking, precum drooling down the shaft and collecting at his balls. He takes his cock in his hand and spreads the precum around, his hips twitching upwards a couple of times at the sudden touch. 

A thought shoots across Keiji’s mind that he wouldn’t mind that in his mouth, but it’s gone in a moment. His focus is on Koutarou’s teeth tearing open the condom package, sliding it onto himself with one hand while he pushes the lube down from the top of the package with the other hand. Before long he tears that package open too, squeezing a decent amount onto his fingers. 

A shudder goes up Keiji’s spine. They’re really doing this. He pushes himself up onto the counter, leaning back against the mirror and lifting his legs for access. His hands come up to Koutarou’s shoulders to brace himself; he knows he’s about to need it. 

“Ready?” Koutarou murmurs, and Keiji nods emphatically. 

“Yes,  _ please, _ Bokuto-san.” 

Koutarou chuckles at the old title, circling his fingers around Keiji’s entrance. “You’re sure?” 

_ “Koutarou.” _

He laughs a little at the sudden cutting tone, and a finger slides home immediately. 

Keiji sucks in an inhale, his fingertips digging into his husband’s broad shoulders. It’s not as rough as it could be, given that they also had sex less than twenty-four hours ago last night… and then had a round two in the early hours of the morning… and then again in the shower  _ later  _ this morning… even so, the sudden intrusion has him clenching. 

“Always so tight,” Koutarou hums, sliding his finger in and out a couple of times before pushing in a second. He allows Keiji a moment to readjust and get his bearings before scissoring them open, making Keiji fall apart all over again. 

Two fingers becomes three, and three - with a little added lube - becomes four. Before long, Koutarou’s sliding his cock between Keiji’s cheeks, biting at his lip so as to avoid being too loud about the friction against his cock. 

“Here, turn around,” he says, tapping at Keiji’s bare thigh with his clean(er) hand. “It’ll be easier, since you’re still wearing your pants and all.” 

Keiji blushes at the comment but does as asked. It makes sense, this way there will be less restriction. 

What he doesn’t expect is the hands on the backs of his thighs, just above his knees. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?” 

“K-Koutarou, wait, this isn’t--”

It’s too late, he’s already in the air, doing his best to contain a yelp as he settles into his husband’s grasp. 

Oh. No, this is much worse. 

The mirror that he had previously had his back to now reveals everything to him. He can see the way his shirt rucks up against his back and falls back towards his stomach, showing an enticing sliver of skin at his waist; he can see how Koutarou’s fingers dig into his skin but hold him open without wavering just the same; he can see the blush that has crept from his cheeks down his neck and across his collar bone, staining his skin red. One glance further down shows him Koutarou’s thick cock sliding against his perineum, tantalisingly slick. 

“Are you ready, Keiji?” Koutarou whispers in his ear, and it’s  _ infuriating _ how steady his voice is when he’s about to slide his dick into his husband. 

“Christ, yes,  _ Koutarou, _ please fuck me,” Keiji gasps. He watches as the blush creeps further down his chest, and then redirects his gaze to his open and waiting hole, watching with a furrowed brow and bitten lip as Koutarou’s cock catches on his rim. 

The initial slide isn’t as bad as it could have been, Keiji thinks.

Even so, Koutarou frowns a little and moves Keiji’s thigh over so he can grab both with one hand, now supporting the entirety of Keiji’s weight with one arm. 

(Keiji feels his cock twitch against his stomach in interest. Can you really blame him? No.)

He grabs the lube packet and squeezes some more onto his fingers, spreading it on his cock as he pulls almost completely out. He wipes his hand on his thigh and then grabs Keiji’s leg once more, pulling his legs as far apart as his pants will allow. 

Keiji had been offering little gasps up to this point, but with the next slide in being slick enough to the point where there’s next to no resistance, it’s all he can do to bite back a moan. The slick sounds bounce around the small room, and he feels himself clenching at the lewdness of it. Wow, this really  _ was  _ a good idea. 

He watches as Koutarou’s eyes slide shut and his brow furrows. His jaw drops a little, until he cranes his neck forward to nose along the juncture between Keiji’s neck and shoulder. 

Keiji gives into the sensation, allowing his eyes to also flutter shut. He tilts his head to the side, but since his eyes are closed he doesn’t have time to prepare for the sudden sensation of teeth against his skin stretched taut. He can’t help but cry out at the overwhelming nature of the pain that intertwines with the pleasure coursing through his body. 

Koutarou’s hips smack against Keiji’s ass with more purpose and harshness, and any idea of discretion is tossed out the window. Keiji figures that at least some of the bar can hear them, but he finds himself not actually caring as much as he had once thought he might. He doesn’t need decency when the sex is this good. 

(A fleeting thought that that’s how you can tell Keiji is not entirely sober; barely a moment before it’s gone.)

For a couple of minutes, there’s nothing but the sound of skin on skin, the wetness of the lube, and panting and hushed moans. It’s all very erotic, and Keiji finds it rather remarkable that  _ either  _ of them have lasted as long as they have. 

“Gonna come soon,” Koutarou mutters, and Keiji nods quickly. 

“Give it to me, please,” he whispers in return. Pulling out what he can’t remember in the heat of the moment is weakness fifty-five or fifty-six, though right now he supposes it doesn’t really matter, he moans a hushed  _ “Koutarou,” _ and allows his eyes to flutter open to watch as his husband falls apart. 

The last three thrusts are absolutely brutal, each one brushing past his prostate in a manner than has Keiji whimpering. He’s teetering on the edge of orgasm, feeling Koutarou’s cock twitch inside him. The low grunts in his ear push him further to that point until he’s practically hovering over it. 

It’s the sight of his hole, gaping in the loss of Koutarou’s thick length once he slipped out, that shoves Keiji mercilessly over the edge. Koutarou growls in his ear, licking along the shell of it while Keiji has his head laid back along his husband’s shoulder, shaking through his orgasm. He comes untouched, shivers wracking his body from head to toe, making him clench around nothing. His toes curl in his shoes and his back arches as much as it can while he’s still held in this position. 

As the first noisy exhale starts to slide from his mouth, Koutarou sets him down and turns him so his back is pressed to the sink once more and captures his lips in a deep, fiery kiss. 

It feels like only a moment before there’s a knock on the door. Both of them freeze, fearing the worst, until a familiar voice calls out. 

“Hey, uh… Bokkun? Keiji-kun? Are ya done fuckin’ in there? I kinda gotta piss….” 

Keiji doesn’t know what comes over him, but suddenly instead of biting back a moan like he had been doing for the past while, he has to bite back a laugh. 

“Yeah,” Koutarou replies sheepishly, trying to pull his pants up and put his tossed-aside shirt on at the same time. 

Keiji grunts as his back pops a couple of times when he reaches to pull his pants up from his ankles, tucking his shirt in again. 

“Shit, hang on,” Atsumu says through the door, “are ya still fuckin’? God, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, I--”

“No, we’re done, Miya-san,” Keiji chuckles. God, his cheeks are flaming red, and noticing the streaks of his cum on his shirt doesn’t help anything. “Ah, Kou,” he murmurs so Atsumu can’t hear the way he says his husband’s name (he doesn’t feel the need for that much vulnerability), “you wore a hoodie here, right?” 

“Yeah,” Koutarou confirms with a nod. “And then I took it off because I was so warm.” 

Keiji nods and steels his nerves. “Okay,” he says, sighing. “I’ll just have to ask Miya-san to get it.” 

Koutarou presses a gentle kiss to his lips, causing Keiji to fall silent in surprise. “I can do it,” he smiles once he pulls away. “Hey, ‘Tsum-‘Tsum, do you wanna be super helpful and grab my sweatshirt?” 

“Yeah,” comes the meager reply from the door. “I’ll be right back.” 

They use the time in between Atsumu leaving and returning with the sweatshirt to clean up as best they can and make themselves presentable enough to return to the group, even if it’s only for a moment. The condom is tossed in the trash and then Keiji has the presence of mind to toss a couple paper towels on top of it so it’s not immediately visible. Once they’ve cleaned up, Koutarou seems more than prepared to wait in awkward silence, but Keiji figures the remaining time would be much better spent kissing. Koutarou  _ is _ his, after all; there’s no sense in letting him get out of this completely unmarked, not with the way people look at him, and kiss-bruised lips are much easier to create than hickeys. 

There’s another timid knock on the door. “Bokkun? I’ve got yer hoodie here.” 

“Thanks, ‘Tsum-‘Tsum!” Koutarou says, bounding over to the door. 

Keiji doesn’t bother trying to look at Atsumu; he knows that the embarrassment will be enough later on when he’s sober. For now, he would prefer to remember this day with fondness. 

The table has a mixed reaction of cheers and flushed cheeks when they walk back. Koutarou lays some money on the table, and Keiji sees other money pass hands under the table. Meian seems to have gotten most of it, it looks like. 

A still mildly inebriated Keiji asks, “Were you betting on if we were fucking in the bathroom?” 

There’s laughter abound, and the final bills make their way to the captain. “No,” he says, “we all knew  _ that _ was gonna happen. We were betting on if you would do your best to claim Bokuto-kun as yours before you walked back through the bar.” 

Keiji doesn’t bother biting back his satisfied smirk. “Gotcha.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sakusa get up and head down the hall to where the bathroom is. His smirk grows just a smidge wider before he feels Koutarou’s hand against his, twining their pinkies together. 

“We’re gonna head out, guys,” Koutarou calls, and they both wave their goodbyes, smiling at the rest of the team. 

Koutarou’s sweatshirt falls to the top of Keiji’s thighs and slides down over most of his hand, he realises as they make their way from the table to the door. He rather enjoys the sensation. 

He also enjoys the sensation of Koutarou’s lips against his own when they’re outside. Though, he’s certain  _ that  _ will never change. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you liked it, consider dropping a kudos or a comment! (Both of these things also increase the likelihood of me not dropping the challenge ngl)
> 
> You can also subscribe if you want to get a new kinky haikyuu fic delivered to your inbox (hopefully) daily!!
> 
> I have a nsfw twt if you're interested (@biscuitysguise) although I'm a lot more active on my main (@biscuityskies)
> 
> I hope to see you tomorrow with a new kink!!


End file.
